


knowing is the best of all

by iguanodon



Category: Star Trek, Star Trek: Alternate Original Series (Movies), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Drabble, Freeform, M/M, Slash, Star Trek - Freeform, haha oh god what am i doing, imagine this as a letter, it was so late i lost control, warning: horrifically sugary
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-14
Updated: 2014-07-14
Packaged: 2018-02-08 20:17:17
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 616
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1954842
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/iguanodon/pseuds/iguanodon
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Jim confesses his feelings to Spock. Space is involved.<br/><span class="small">(this is awful. please read it.)</span></p>
            </blockquote>





	knowing is the best of all

**Author's Note:**

  * For [PsychoticMeepit](https://archiveofourown.org/users/PsychoticMeepit/gifts).



> If I owned Star Trek, would I be here?  
> Chika encouraged me to post this, like, last year. Here it is, still terrible. (someone read this.)

You once said that science was cold, hard, unfeeling. The foundation of facts on which our world is built, indisputable and irrefutable. It’s a view you like, isn’t it? Many people would probably say that it’s because you yourself are cold, unfeeling and unmovable. And I remember that’s what I told you, during that fight – remember that? You retaliated and called me an emotionally clouded fool, and I said that I’d rather be an emotional idiot than – well, anyway, I’m sure your eidetic memory remembers everything far better than I ever could. But I feel that you might need to be reminded, because, as it turns out, that argument was the moment when all the things I’m about to say started boiling up in my brain, and now they’re threatening to boil over, and I need to share them with you – so here I am.

Science may be made up of unchangeable facts, but sometimes, it’s this that makes it so poetic; with romance, we can only imagine, but with science, we can know. And the knowing is the best of all.

Consider the beginning. Billions of years ago, billions of light-years away, a star burned bright and churned out trillions of endlessly spinning particles of ancient gas that collided and travelled bound to each other and over the course of all of time came together to form you. You’re made of stardust, Spock; you’re made of the very things you study and fly among. Everything about you – your eyes, your lips, your fingers – is made up of particles that are infinitely old and have been part of nebulae, of supernovae, and could have come together to form anything in the whole of our infinite universe; but they formed you.

And later, much later but still so very long ago, a creature on the insignificant planet of Terra crawled from the sea and sprouted legs. Well – because I can practically see you cringing about my gross oversimplication – over unfathomable stretches of time, this creature and its descendants formed legs, four-chambered hearts, warm blood, hair, and evolved over countless millennia into mammals, branching into innumerable phyla, orders, geni, species… throughout the galaxy, civilisations were rising and falling, yet Terran life plodded on – and finally formed the Homo Sapiens, the Wise Man, a boundless family of which – though you love to ignore it – your mother is a member. All the while, I would guess – surprisingly, there are things I don’t know – the same thing was happening light-years away on Vulcan. At every stage in this process, the outcome was uncertain. You could have been anything. But no; after aeons, your parents were created, so far apart, but they still met – and they formed you.

Even that, the mathematical improbability of your parents’ meeting, is staggering. What chance did they have, among the billions upon trillions of sentient beings in this galaxy, did they have of meeting, of falling in love, of having you? What chance was there that you would have been born in this era of warp technology of spaceflight, that you could have flown to Terra, that there would have been a Starfleet for you to join and an Enterprise to serve on, that I could have met you?

Our universe is a knot of chance and coincidence. Of miracles and luck, if you believe in them. And yet, in all of this, I have met you, and I have loved you, and I am here now to tell you this in the hope that you might understand that of all the things to value in this boundless universe, I am most glad that particles from eternities ago and eternities away came together to form you.


End file.
